


Silver Grin

by micehell



Category: Farscape
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-11
Updated: 2008-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's nothing personal.  Not for Scorpius, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Grin

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is just odd. Well, odder than I normally am. But John's really so messed up by the time we get to S4 that I could really kind of see this.
> 
> Title still from a _Bush_ song, still without any real meaning. *snicker*

Sometimes Noranti's gift to him was a miracle. It dulled the memories until he couldn't even remember that he'd forgot.

Sometimes it was an addiction, days when everything crowded too close, and he took hit after hit until he couldn't breathe, and even holes in his memory weren't enough to stop the pain.

They were swirling around him today, memories and ghosts of memories, and he crouched in the corner of his room, trying to make himself as small as possible, needing to escape the sound of the voices.

_Do you like this, John?_

He shook his head, but he couldn't escape it any more than he had the first time. He'd told her then it was better than what Scorpius used to do, but he wondered if it was true. She'd made him crave her touch, her approval, until he'd been willing to do anything, _anything_ , to get it. At least Scorpius had never made him enjoy his humiliation.

John had tried to tell Aeryn about it, but she couldn’t understand, any more than D'Argo had. They'd both thought he wouldn't mind lying back and thinking of England, not as long as it didn't hurt. It wasn't even rape to them, and he couldn't find the words to explain. Couldn't show what it meant to him that Grayza had taken away that last little bit of resistance he'd had.

So many people in his life, even before he'd fallen down the rabbit hole, had wanted to fuck with his head, fuck with his body. Always wanting what he could do for them, what they could do to him, never caring where that left him. He learned to defend himself, but he was just never as good at the physical side of things, the emotional side of things, as he was at the science. There was always someone who could get through his guard.

John started out of the memories when the door slid open. When he saw who it was, he snarled, wishing he had Winona in his hand. "Get out of here, Scorpy."

Scorpius started to say something, then paused, cold eyes assessing Crichton with an accuracy that John always wanted to deny, but couldn't quite. No one quite knew you as well as your torturer, after all.

After a moment, Scorpius said, "Is it Grayza today, or is it Aeryn Sung?"

"What makes you think it was either of them? Maybe I'm feeling this way because I'm thinking of you."

"Oh, no, John. I anger you. I terrify you. I make you doubt what is real and what isn't. But I never make you regret."

True enough, but he also made John wish he were dead sometimes. Today the desire for an end to the memories was too close, and he didn't want to deal with any more shit. "Don't fuck with me."

Scorpius smiled, sending a shiver through him. "Oh, John, it was never about that. If you could have just been a little less intelligent, or a little more avaricious, things could have been so much easier between us."

He stepped closer, a side step that seemed to be trying to set John at ease, as if he weren't being stalked. "Of course, you wouldn't have been so fascinating if you had been those things. Don't you ever wonder why so many people here seem to obsess over you? It isn't just the knowledge you possess. You truly are unique, John, in so many ways."

He was close enough to touch now, one hand reaching out towards John, hesitant where he never had been before. John shied away from the hand, shaking off touch and words. "Another trick of yours. You're just trying to fuck with my head again."

Scorpius cocked his head to the side, studying him again. "It's such a lovely head to fuck with, John, but that's not what I'm doing now. Not what I'm offering. We're not done with our game yet, not by any means. But…"

He trailed off, lips pursed in consideration, inviting John to ask.

John wanted to ignore him, but at least Scorpius' voice was keeping Grayza's away. "But?"

"But it doesn't mean we can't start another."

John shook his head, confused. Maybe Noranti's gift was making him slower, or the lack of sleep was catching up, because he couldn't follow the snaking curves of Scorpius' thoughts today. "What?"

Scorpius stepped closer still, crowding into John's corner, invading his space, but not quite a hostile in it. "A momentary respite. A small truce. You think I don’t know what it's like to be fucked with? You've seen for yourself that that's not true. Just think about what I am, John. When would I have ever been free to let my guard down for even a microt? Surely you can understand why the idea of being free to do so with you is attractive to me."

"You can't think… after what you..." John trailed off, not even able to say it. He'd never told the others everything that had happened, though he was pretty sure that Zhaan and Chiana at least had guessed. He couldn't believe that Scorpius would think for even a second that John would agree to anything between them.

"A simple means to an end. It was never personal, John."

Maybe not to Scorpius, but it had felt plenty personal to him. "Get the fuck out of here, and just be grateful that I don't have my gun in hand."

Without any change in expression, Scorpius grabbed John by the throat, dragging him up and pressing him into the wall. "I am grateful for that. It makes this so much easier."

Memories of the last time this had happened screamed through his mind, but he fought them off with the same intensity he fought Scorpius. He was helpless, though. Again.

Helpless when Scorpius pushed him down. When he ripped John's clothes getting them off. When he tied John's hand tight to the small of his back with his ripped shirt, and when he muffled his cries beneath one hard hand as he shoved his way in.

It hurt, and Scorpius did nothing to ameliorate it. He always burned, even with the cooling rods, and his cock was like a hot poker stabbing into John. The thrusts were brutal, the hand on John's face vicious, drawing blood as it split his lip, as the nails dug in. And Scorpius made it last, taking his time. Enjoying himself as he let down his guard.

He never tried to make John enjoy it.

Scorpius sighed his release, holding John in place until he was fully soft inside him. He finally slipped out, letting John fall away from him as he tidied himself up. Only then did he untie John, throwing him his pants, and then sitting on the bed, watching as John tried to pull himself together.

John thought about running and getting the others. He thought about getting his gun and shooting Scorpius. Maybe himself. He thought about curling up into a ball and screaming until he had no voice left. But all he wound up doing was sinking back into his corner, taking a hit of Noranti's gift. He felt it put everything at a distance, so that even his voice didn't belong to him when he told Scorpius to leave.

But Scorpius didn't leave, staying on the bed, smiling at him. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it, John? For someone to push the memory of the pleasure, pleasure without choice, away? You needn't worry, though. Whatever Grayza made you feel wasn't real. Any more than the visions the Scarrans put in your head were. Your pretty little Peacekeeper holds your pleasure, John. I hold your pain. Nothing else matters."

He left then, never saying what it was he'd come for. John certainly never asked. As forgetfulness stole over him, he went to his shower, washing blood and semen away, and not even trying to pretend that in some sick way, Scorpius hadn't been right. The memory of Grayza had lost its sting, subsumed in the horror he lived with, and would never fully escape.

Later, when Aeryn asked him what happened to his face, worry in hers, he just shook his head. He didn't remember, and that was all that he could ask.

/story


End file.
